


i don't belong here anymore

by kiingsteve



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Not Happy, Pre-Season/Series 03, Recreational Drug Use, Songfic, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Steve Harrington-centric, he smokes weed, no beta we die like men, you dont really need to know the show to read this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:14:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25434469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiingsteve/pseuds/kiingsteve
Summary: steve is sad in the bathroom at a party. thats it.based on 'drunk in a fancy shower' by elizamclamb on soundcloud
Kudos: 14





	i don't belong here anymore

**Author's Note:**

> so this is my first finished stranger things fic and its not my proudest but i heard this song and i thought it would work really well as a songfic for steve

_i wonder how expensive this bathroom chandelier is_

_i’ve been looking at it for hours_

_trying not to throw up in this fancy shower_

_God, why did I even come to this party?_ He asked himself as he felt his forehead slowly lowering to rest gently on top of his forearm, splayed across the open toilet seat. No, Steve Harrington, former King of Hawkins High, was _not_ in the bathroom of some girl from the volleyball team’s bathroom throwing up because he’s drunk too much. 

Honestly, Steve isn’t too sure he can even throw up from drinking anymore; the combination of having been raiding his father’s liquor cabinet and going to parties for nearly four years now has really built up his tolerance. 

Anyways, no, Steve isn’t in the bathroom because he needs to throw up.

_god its just so clear that i_

_really don’t belong here_

He’s in the bathroom because it is the second to last weekend of May of 1985, exactly 11 days until he graduates, alongside most of the other attendees of this party. The absolutely glaring difference between him and all of his peers, is that it’s so obvious how much he doesn’t belong. 

Sure, maybe there were some people out there that would smile at him, clap his shoulder, and exclaim something along the lines of “We did it, man!” But he highly doubted that any of those people would actively search him out, or even realize it if they never saw him at this party. 

_i should get out of this bathroom_

_before some girl needs it to throw up after me_

He’s been in this bathroom for a little over 9 minutes. But it’s not like he’s counting or anything. He’s shifted positions by now, leaning back against the side of the tub, with one of his knees bent and the other leg swung up for his foot to rest atop of the now shut toilet seat. 

Maybe he should get up. Or maybe not. Maybe he could just stay here on the floor forever. He shuts his eyes forcefully and pulls out a joint from one of his front pockets and his Zippo from the other. 

_is it so cynical to think_

_that no one would give a shit if i_

_crawled out this window_

_took the bus and walked on back home_

Steve tries to reach up to crack open the window, but it’s just a little bit too far from his reach. He stands to open the window a few inches, relishing in the gradually cooling Indiana air. He flicks open his Zippo and lights the joint, resting between his lips. The smoke from whatever shitty weed he was able to get from one of his few friendly acquaintances on the basketball team filled his lungs, before he grabbed the joint and exhaled, staring out the window at the other party goers.

_i’d probably have a better time just_

_sitting on my floor and drinking wine_

_maybe crying_

_probably crying_

By the time he had already smoked half of his joint, Steve was feeling simultaneously a little bit more and less shitty. Less shitty because it's lightened up his mental clarity a bit, but also more shitty because he realized that he’s so detached from others his own age he needs to smoke to even be able to stomach interacting with them. 

He contemplated what to do next. He hadn’t driven over, because the party was just on the other side of Loch Nora, so he could just head home. Even though the old analog clock on the wall only read 11:03, he knew he’d probably enjoy the rest of his night at home more than he would trying to socialize at this party. 

Or, maybe he could stay and wander his way around the attendees, avoiding Tommy and Carol and Billy and honestly even Nancy and Jonathan, who he was surprised to see when he walked in. He could wander around the lower floor of this house, trying to make shitty conversation with the less than ten people he could actually tolerate.

Yeah, he knew which he was gonna do

_but right now i need to get the fuck up_

_get back out there_

_fill my cup up_

He left the bathroom. He went home. No one noticed. 

_pretend to be_

_as drunk_

_as i seem_

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed some sad boy steve! follow me on twitter @pastoblivian (yes oblivion is spelled wrong). please comment and kudos!


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